


Two's Company....

by Sigma



Series: Complications... [1]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Alex Rider - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Jealously, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigma/pseuds/Sigma
Summary: For SlytherinBunBun in response to the following prompt:Yassen/Alex/Wolf. Alex is in an open relationship with Wolf and regularly has sex with Yassen, usually far from home. Yassen is aware of Alex’s relationship status but neither he nor Wolf know who the other guy is. Something happens and they find out… and they’re not happy....
Relationships: Alex Rider/Wolf, Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Series: Complications... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044693
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59
Collections: AR Fic Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlytherinBunBun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinBunBun/gifts).



> _This is not a complete story, in fact this is, in essence, just the beginning of the story - because it turns out I am completely incapable of keeping to a 10k word deadline. So I am posting the first part of this story here, and then, once everyone's identity has been revealed, I will post the continuation/sequel to this on my profile and link the two - hope you enjoy!_

As usual, Yassen only waited long enough for his breath to regulate and his heartbeat to slow down before he rolled out of the bed in one fluid movement and padded into the bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom. By the time he reappeared and stepped into his jeans Alex had woken up from the semi doze his orgasm had dropped him into and rolled on to his side, propped up on one elbow in the bed to watch with a carefully neutral expression as the Russian pulled the denim up over his muscled thighs and tucked himself in, already looking for his shirt even as he zipped up. It had been a matter of minutes since he had been buried balls deep in Alex, and the younger man could still feel the lube dribbling out his swollen arse, but Gregorovitch was already on the way out of the door, psychologically, even if he hadn't quite managed it physically. 

Even as Alex watched, Yassen slipped on his shirt and started hunting for his socks and shoes, discarded somewhere on the hotel room floor in their rush to pull each other's clothes off before round one which had culminated against the wall, before they made it to the bed for round two, their mutual lust overwhelming and blacking out any other considerations. And even now, two orgasms behind him in quick succession, the sight of the other man's body, framed between the open panels of his shirt pulled at Alex's gut, sending a pang of lust through him, even though his cock was still too exhausted to be able to respond. 

It was like this every time, ever since they had started this mad, ill-advised thing between them. When Gregorovitch had reappeared in Alex's life when he was 18, he had never guessed that over the next two years and the numerous crossings of each other's paths in the dangerous game of international espionage that they both specialised in, he would find himself fighting a losing battle between the sensible option, and the practised seduction of a man who had spent years working in part as a Swallow operative. And who had for some unknown reason, decided that a now adult Alex Rider was the target of his interest.

They had finally ended up having sex after a mission went spectacularly wrong for both of them and they had been forced to work together to escape the vengeance of a particularly psychopathic oligarch, angry at the destruction that Alex had caused before Six's inaccurate briefings had caused the rest of the mission to be completely fucked up, and at Gregorovitch for the loss of the intelligence the other man had used the disruption caused by Alex's operations to steal. It had been twenty four hours of gun battles, hiding from pursuit, working back to back and finally an epic car chase to freedom which had resulted in Yassen downing a helicopter with an assault rifle. By the time they made it back to semi-neutral territory Alex was so high on a combination of fatigue, adrenaline and delayed lust that his ability to protest when Gregorovitch shoved him against a wall of the room they had ended up in and kissed him so hard that Alex feared oxygen deprivation was minimal and swiftly depleted by the aggressive onslaught of Yassen's tongue.

And the sex, the sex was _amazing_. Off the charts good, all the potential of the last two years of increasing levels of sexual tension fulfilled and then some. Alex had had sexual partners before the two of them came together like a natural disaster, destructive and overwhelming all at once, but no one who had come close to how Yassen seemed to know exactly how to take him apart, wreck him and then put him back together, blissfully fucked out.

Alex sighed to himself at the recollection, and rolled on his back to stare at the ceiling even as he tracked the sounds of Gregorovitch getting ready to leave. Like always. Maybe if the sex hadn't been that good he could have let it go, he mused. Or tallied it up to experience and moved on. Assumed that Yassen had got what he had wanted and that the two of them could go back to their previous cautious professional neutrality, without the undercurrent of sexual tension that so frequently coloured their interactions. 

But it hadn't worked out like that. Instead their sexual compatibility had clearly been noted by the Russian as well, and since then the man had been relentless in dragging Alex into bed, or onto the floor, or the back of a car, or one time memorably in the hold of a cargo ship whenever their paths crossed and opportunity arose. And it happened pretty bloody frequently. In fact Alex would say that he interacted in some way with the assassin at least once every 3-4 months over the last two years, and every time Yassen succeeded in getting his hands, or mouth on Alex's cock and usually his dick in Alex's arse. 

It had reached the point where Alex always made sure that there was lube and a condom in the pockets of most of his operational jackets as Yassen had no compunctions about fucking him raw with nothing but spit to lubricate the older man's passage, and while in the moment Alex was an enthusiastic participant he often ended up feeling the effects rather painfully for days afterwards. And while he didn't mind a few bruises, and in fact was 100% in favour of rough sex, a bit of lubrication was still better when a man with a cock the size of Gregorovitch's was preparing to fuck you with little or no preparation.

In fact, they crossed paths so often Alex was beginning to wonder if somehow Yassen knew exactly when Alex was going to be sent out on a mission and when, and simply arranged for their paths to intersect. Of course, if that was the case, M16 had a bigger security issue to deal with than Alex's sex life. But it wasn't exactly an issue Alex could bring up. He could imagine how _that_ conversation with Mrs Jones would go. 

_“You have a security leak.”_

_Mrs Jones with raised eyebrow. “And you know this how?”_

_“Well the assassin that I'm regularly fucking me seems to always know where I'm going to be on mission.”_

Yeah, that would go well. If he was very lucky all he would get would be a severe bollocking. Far more likely they would insist on using him as a honey trap to capture or kill Yassen, and for all his concerns about the potential security issues of Yassen always being able to track him down he wasn't willing to betray his intermittent bed partner. In fact, the idea of Yassen being hurt or killed left a hollowness in his stomach and a lump in his throat. Which was half of the problem.

He rolled onto his side again. Yassen had found his errant socks and was busy lacing up his shoes, his attention wholly on his exit and as was happening increasingly lately, Alex just wished for once that the older man would stay. But he knew better than to articulate what he was feeling. He'd learnt that from bitter experience. It was just that some times he wished things could be different.

He coughed to clear his throat and the noise was sufficient to bring the Russian's attention to him, blue eyes already cool and detached, none of the heat that been blazing in them just a short while earlier apparent. 

“So when will I see you again?” Inwardly Alex winced as soon as he spoke. That had come out sounding far more needy than he expected, and from the barriers that he could almost see going up in the eyes of the older man it had been definitely the wrong thing to say.

The Russian retrieved his belt from the chair where it had dropped and started to thread it through the belt loops of his jeans, his gaze focused on the task in hand and shrugged loosely.

“Whenever we cross paths again, Alexander. You know as well as I do that these things are not pre-arranged.” Yassen's voice was distantly chiding, an adult talking to a child, and Alex inwardly cringed. He had sounded so fucking _needy_. He knew better. Yassen had always made it clear from the very beginning that this thing between them was just sex. Amazing, off the charts compatible sex. But that was all it was. But it had been two years now, and some part of Alex had just hoped....he sat up in bed, suddenly irrationally angry. 

“Yes, of course,” he responded coldly. “Whenever you can fit me into your busy schedule I'm sure,” he snapped and was gratified to see the other man pause in his preparations to depart and look up, frowning at the irritation in his bed partner's tone.

“Alexander, is something wrong?” He enquired, eyes narrowed. Alex took a deep breath and tried to bring himself back under control, one hand plucking at the bedsheets spread across his lap. He shook his head.

“No, it's nothing,” he sighed. “I just,” he paused and shook his head. “Ignore me, it's fine.”

Yassen continued to regard him with that same focused attention. “Alex, we agreed that when we first had sex that this could only ever be that,” he reminded the younger man with a horrible gentleness that grated on Alex's nerves like almost nothing else could. “We can't be anything else. This isn't a relationship. You agreed to this.” 

Alex shut his eyes to try and will away the childish urge to snap back. The Russian was right, he had agreed to that, but...”Yes, but that was _two years ago_ , Yassen.”

The assassin shrugged. “And what has changed since then?” He pointed out with inescapable logic. “You still work for MI6, I am still on your agency's most wanted list. We are still two people on opposing sides. Nothing more than sex is possible between us.”

Alex bit his lip. “I know. But I was hoping that...”

“What? That I would stay and _cuddle_? That we could somehow have some kind of relationship despite everything?” The older man shook his head dismissively. “This isn't Romeo and Juliet, Alex. This is just sex. This is _fucking_. Nothing more.”

Alex's temper reared up. “Right then. I get it. Just two professionals who occasionally use each other for tension release is it?”

Yassen deliberately ignored the sarcasm. “Exactly.”

Now Alex was really getting pissed. Even if that was all they were, for Yassen to point it out so bluntly, to be so cruelly dismissive of two years of the nearest Alex had ever had to a relationship _hurt_ , and he struck back, intending to hurt as well.

“So if I wanted to find someone else, you'd be okay with that?”

If Alex hadn't been watching so closely he might not have seen the momentary pause the older man made when Alex's words registered, but he was and he did, and the younger man felt a pulse of vicious satisfaction that his words had had an impact on the assassin's seemingly impenetrable cool.

Yassen shrugged, overtly unbothered by Alex's razor edged query, despite what his body language had communicated. “Of course. We have no hold on each other. You are entitled to seek pleasure where you will. As am I.”

He looked his younger partner in the face even as he shrugged on his jacket. “In fact, perhaps that might be wise,” he responded coolly. “If you have another emotional outlet, perhaps you will not not feel the urge to keep implying things on to our arrangement that aren't there.”

Alex swallowed, and had to crush the urge to rear back in the bed as the Russian's pointed shot hit him almost like a physical blow. He should have known better than to get into this kind of argument with the assassin. He always was the one out of the two of them who was willing to go for the killing blow. 

“I see,” he responded dully. “Right then, maybe I will.”

Yassen inclined his head. “Good. Well I wish you best of luck with your endeavours in that area. I hope that any such relationships will not affect our arrangement, but,” he shrugged, “I shall no doubt find out next time we meet. Until then, Alexander.”

And not even waiting for Alex's nod in return he was gone, out of the door, leaving Alex still curled up in bed, lube still drying into a tacky mess on his thighs and his heart aching far more than his arse.


	2. Chapter 2

It was only when Wolf looked around the office at the Royal and General that he realised how long it had been since he had last visited the main headquarters of Special Operations. Mostly that was because he was generally based at the various sub-division bases, or stuck in the field, but if he was being honest with himself, some of it was due to his avoidance of Alan Blunt who had been the kind of man who always stuck in Wolf's craw. Thankfully, Blunt had retired last year as a result of medical disability from an unexpected stroke and his Deputy, Mrs Jones had taken over. Admittedly she wasn't much better, but at least Wolf didn't feel like a frog about to be dissected whenever the two of them had to meet.

So this time, when a member of K-unit was required to deliver a number of items in person to Smithers Wolf hadn't abused the privilege of rank for once, and had couriered the material up to Headquarters in person. And it had only brought home to him how long since he had last been inside the Bank's walls when he looked around the office, and saw almost no one he knew. 

He shifted from his position sitting on the guest chair in Smithers' office and sighed to himself. He had hoped that this would be a quick trip, in and out in 30 minutes or so. But instead Smithers had been called in to deal with an emergency situation. Wolf had offered to leave the gadgets and material retrieved from their mission with one of the man's deputies, but Smithers had been insistent that Wolf stay, and “then we can grab a coffee, catch up,” the tech genius had burbled at Wolf with such genuine enthusiasm that a refusal would be the equivalent of killing a puppy. And Wolf, although he would deny it under torture if put on the spot, had always had a bit of a soft spot for the eccentric tech genius, and so had agreed to wait. Which he was somewhat regretting now.

Deeply bored, he let his eyes scan the activity in open plan office, trying to recognise at least one body amongst the bustle. No such luck, but he did see something _much_ more interesting. “Something” was leaning over a desk, weight on his hands as he examined a document, and spoke intently to the woman sitting there. He had his back to Wolf, but as the other man let his eyes scan that tall, broad shouldered but still lithe figure from top to bottom, and back again, Wolf had to admit it wasn't an unpleasant view. In fact it was down right enticing. Long legs clad in snug indigo denim, the material wrapping closely around muscular thighs, and then frankly highlighting a peach of a tight arse to Wolf's increasingly interested gaze. Then a trim waist, apparent even with the loose button down shirt the other was wearing, and the vee of a fit, functionally built figure, that led to broad shoulders perfectly in proportion with the rest of him. And topped with a slightly shaggy mop of streaked honey blond hair that immediately made Wolf's hands twitch to run his fingers through it. 

Whoever this bloke was, he was _fit,_ and perfectly in line with Wolf's type. And going by the hair, clearly not military, which was a relief. While Wolf enjoyed his job he didn't want to shag another soldier, or SF operator. Too incestuous. But this pretty boy, or man, Wolf would have to check out the front view to be sure, looked like he was clearly Special Operations, but definitely not someone that Wolf had to worry about bumping into on a day to day basis. Mentally, Wolf assessed that delicious body and tight arse again. However, knowing his luck the Adonis across the office was probably either irredeemably straight or completely taken, or perhaps both. 

He was aware that he was probably staring a bit too hard, but he hadn't been so immediately attracted to anyone at just a glance for ages, and he couldn't tear his gaze away, even when the recipient of his stares straightened up and turned around, giving Wolf a look at his face for the first time. Young, was his first impression, but old enough for blond stubble to be decorating a sharply hewn face that was far too attractive for Wolf's peace of mind. Slightly tanned golden skin, high cheekbones, a stubborn, pointed chin, straight light brown eyebrows set in a frown above deep brown eyes as he caught Wolf's gaze, and a mouth that was far too lush for it not to star in Wolf's fantasies for the next few days. 

Clearly he had been even more blatant in his admiration than he had thought, for the man's expression cooled even further and he broke his momentary stare off with Wolf, turned on the spot and stalked off with the kind of predatory graze that at least answered one of Wolf's questions. The object of Wolf's lust was clearly either a field agent, or someone with extensive martial arts training. Nothing else gave the body that absolute confidence, the certainty that you were the most dangerous individual in any room you walked into. It just made him even _more_ attractive and by now Wolf was almost drooling.

However, his appreciation was abruptly disrupted by the (now) unwanted visage of Smithers popping into his eye level, beaming in welcome. “Wolf, my dear boy! How good to see you at last!” And reluctantly, Wolf dragged his attention away from that peach of an arse and over to the actual reason he was at Headquarters in the first place. Ten minutes later the material had been handed over, briefly examined by Smithers and then logged, and the tech genius was busy interrogating him about his life over the last few years with a thoroughness that made Wolf, an RTI expert, somewhat reluctantly impressed. After dodging questions and providing the bare minimum of information he could get away with over a cup of coffee, he saw an opening in Smithers cheerful blather over all the changes that had occurred at Headquarters since Wolf had last graced them with his presence to try and find out a little more about the pretty boy who had piqued his interest. 

“Yeah, I noticed that it's pretty different here,” Wolf sprawled in his chair, nursing the surprisingly decent cup of coffee that Smithers' had made him from his personal coffee machine situated in a corner of his office. “Lots of new faces.”

Smithers nodded amiably. “Yes, indeed. Quite a few changes since Mr Blunt retired.” He lowered his voice a little. “For the better, if you ask me,” he murmured.

Wolf inclined his chin in silent agreement, and then continued, deliberately casual. “There was one bloke who looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite remember his name.” Lie, but it was better than admitting that he was shamelessly horning to get information.

Smithers raised his eyebrows, seemingly intrigued. “Oh yes? Who was that?”

Wolf shrugged. “Quite tall, young, blond hair, brown eyes, was talking to the woman at the desk over there,” he waved over to where he had seen his latest interest earlier. Smithers frowned for a moment, and then his face cleared. 

“Ah, Alex! Must have been!”

Wolf raised an interrogative eyebrow. “Alex? Don't know the name.” Inwardly he rolled the name around his tongue. _Alex_. That was just _perfect_.

Smithers hummed to himself. “Yes, not sure if you would. If you haven't been at Headquarters for a few years I doubt your paths would have crossed. But Alex is quite the rising star within Special Operations. Just 22 and already a Senior Field Agent. One of our best too. Extremely talented.”

With every comment Wolf's eyebrows rose even further. At 22 he had yet to tackle Selection. In fact that would be a good seven years in the future. He was too busy learning his trade, and had only just been promoted to Lance Corporal in the Royal Marines. The fact that this young man (he hesitated to call him a boy even in the privacy of his own head, considering what he wanted to do to him) had managed to reach Senior Field Agent at just 22 was...remarkable. It wasn't a position that allowed for anything else other than relentless, Darwinian competence. If you weren't capable of performing at that level, you didn't survive, simple as that. So not just a pretty face then.

Smithers interrupted his contemplation again by bouncing up in his chair. “There he is! I'll introduce you, Wolf. Be good for you to meet just in case K-unit gets tasked to back Alex up in the field. Stranger things have happened.”

Not one to look a gift introduction in the mouth Wolf hastily pushed up from his chair and followed the ebullient older man out into the main office.

“Alex,” Smithers called cheerfully to the younger man who was back at the desk where Wolf had first spotted him, deep in conversation with the woman he had been talking to earlier. The blond turned round at the sound of Smithers voice, mobile mouth softened with the trace of a fond smile, which rapidly dissipated when he saw who was accompanying the Head of R&D. 

“Alex, there's someone I think you should meet! This is Wolf, he's been head of K-Unit, one of our better SF support units for the last few years. Wolf, this is Alex, Alex Rider, Senior Field Agent.”

The brown eyes that surveyed Wolf briefly head to toe were distinctly cool, and the young man regarded the hand that Wolf held out for his to shake with the expression of a man finding a dead rodent in his shoe. But after a long moment of excruciating awkwardness, which had Smithers regarding Rider with a frown of confusion at the agent's atypical rudeness, the younger man briefly clasped Wolf's out reached hand, and Wolf had to swallow at the brief frisson that went through his skin at the press of that strong calloused palm against his. Fuck him, even with all the attitude, Rider was _gorgeous_. And Wolf's gaydar which was pretty damn good was firing on all cylinders.

And that pissy attitude? Well Wolf was sure he could fuck it out of the other man – he'd always liked a challenge. But there was also something vaguely familiar about the Field agent, and Wolf wondered if he hadn't unintentionally told the truth to Smithers when he had said that he had met the other man before. That impression was rapidly reinforced when Rider responded to Smithers' introduction.

“Actually, Wolf and I have already met, haven't we Wolf?” 

Wolf blinked. He recognised that voice, how did he....he frowned and then blinked, incredulous as everything clicked into place.

_“Cub?”_

The smile that he received back had very little of humour in it. “The penny drops, I see. Yes, Wolf. Long time no see.” He nodded to the gobsmacked SF operator and then turned his attention to Smithers, his expression softening. “I've got that meeting with Jones in five minutes, so I'd better head.”

Smithers had watched the interaction between the two men with an increasing level of surprise at Alex's atypical hostility, and the abashed and slightly guilty expression that was rapidly growing on Wolf's face, so he just nodded in response to Alex's clear cop out. “Of course, my boy. Mustn't keep M'Lady waiting. I'll catch up with you later.”

And with a last unreadable look at Wolf, Rider stalked away again, leaving an insanely curious Smithers and a slightly down cast SF operator behind him. 

“Well then,” Smithers exhaled. “That was unexpected. He's usually such a charming young man. Very polite. But he was quite short with you...”

Although not phrased as a question, it clearly was one, and Wolf shrugged, momentarily torn about what to do next. Cub. That gorgeous bloke was _Cub_. The teenager that Wolf had last seen using an ironing board to make a breakneck escape down a mountain in the Alps, and who understandably had a less than stellar impression of both K-Unit and Wolf himself after their treatment of him at Brecon Beacons. He'd only been 14 then Wolf had found out later, which had just made him squirm even harder about how badly the unit had treated someone who really was just a traumatised kid at the time. 

But that kid had grown up, and then some. Christ, if he was 22, that meant it must have been seven years since Wolf had last seen the teenager. And if he had somehow had been working for Special Operations ever since then (and how illegal was that?), no wonder he was already a Senior Field Agent at the ripe old age of 22. 

“We met when he was 14. It didn't go that well. He was dumped on the unit at Brecon during the Selection process and we were instructed that if he didn't pass with us, the entire unit would be binned.” He grimaced. “So we were less than...gentle with him.”

Smithers rocked back on his heels, hands clasped behind his back, his expression contemplative. “Ah, I see. Well, I would recommend that you attempt to make amends if you can. Alex is very well liked around here, and it would be best for you professionally if you could in some way repair your relationship. After all, if it gets out that you treated him that badly when he was so young...” Smithers grimaced. “Not ideal. At all.” He concluded with classic British understatement.

Wolf raked his hand through his mass of dark curls. “Yeah, I get that. And I do need to apologise. I behaved like a dick. We all did. Yeah, we were all under stress from Selection, but we still shouldn't have treated Cub like we did.” But where to start to make amends?

Smithers seemed to pick up on his uncertainty. “Well, Alex is often far more reasonable than he should be. So if you were to attempt a genuine apology he would be likely to listen.”

“Yes, but I'm only here today. And you know me, I'm never at Headquarters so I might not have the chance again.”

Smithers mused for a second, lips pursed. “Well, Alex generally does like to grab lunch in the Commissionary after his meetings with Mrs Jones. He says dealing with her burns up a lot of calories,” the older man added light heartedly. “So if you were to be in the Commissionary in about an hour you would probably have your chance to encounter him there.”

Wolf nodded slowly. “Thanks. Yeah, I think I'd better do that.” And try to ignore the fact that what he really wanted was to just push the gorgeous blond down over a table and fuck the snark right out him. But think with your head Wolf, for once, and not your dick, he reminded himself sternly.

It had been a long and tortuous meeting with Mrs Jones as always, and just like every other time Alex headed straight for lunch afterwards. Dealing with Mrs Jones, even with 8 years of experience at doing exactly that under his belt, was always an exercise in juggling a pit viper, and it always left him a combination of exhausted and enervated, and always, absolutely starving.

Thankfully the Commissionary was pretty quiet, the main lunch rush over, and Alex was able to load up his tray with food without being forced to interact with anyone. He purposely chose an empty table to avoid having to make conversation, and busied himself with the important business of eating. Ten minutes later he had filled the gaping hole that was his stomach and was toying with the slice of cake he had chosen as dessert, drinking tea and reading his phone as he did so, in a far more mellow mood than he had been previously. So when there was a shadow cast across his table by the figure standing next to it, and he looked up to see Wolf standing there, looking a little embarrassed but also determined, he didn't immediately tell the older man to fuck off.

Instead he leaned back in his chair, met the older man's gaze with a challenging stare of his own and raised a querying eyebrow. 

“Yes?”

Wolf looked even more uncomfortable, and the small part of Alex that was still a 14 year boy relished the other man's awkwardness.

“Look, I just wanted to apologise.”

He wasn't about to make it easier for his erstwhile tormentor. “For what?”

Wolf grimaced. “You know for what. I was a dick, okay? We were all dicks. And you didn't deserve it. You were just a kid.”

Alex gave him a cool stare, letting him squirm. If he was being honest so many worse things had happened to him since he was 14 that the treatment doled out by Wolf and the rest of K-unit now paled into insignificance. But that didn't mean that he didn't think that the man shouldn't suffer for a bit. So he held that other man's gaze for a moment, letting him sweat. But after a few minutes he couldn't be bothered any more, and waved his spoon in Wolf's direction dismissively. 

“It's fine. It's done. I got over it, obviously.”

Wolf looked a little stunned at Alex's bored tone and the easy acceptance of his apology. 

“But I just...I wanted to...oh fuck! We were right dicks to you, you can't be over it that easily!” He blurted out.

Alex raised another eyebrow at him. “I really, really can, What do you want, formality?” He inclined his head, a little mockingly. “In that case, I _formally_ accept your apology.”

Wolf raked his hand through his hair, a little irritated by how flippant Rider was being, but unable to protest. What was he going to say – don't accept my apology? But he didn't just want Rider to accept his apology, he wanted him to understand that Wolf _meant_ it.

“Look, can I sit down?”

Alex shrugged and pushed back the opposite seat at the table with his foot. “Knock yourself out.”

Wolf dropped into the chair and for a moment the two of them just looked at each other. Alex's recollections of his time with the SAS weren't the best, but one of his particular skills was an excellent, almost perfect, recall of names and faces, which had only been further honed by his years in the field. So he remembered exactly what Wolf had looked like 8 years ago, and it was clear that the other man hadn't changed that much. Still tall, broad shouldered, olive skin, dark curly hair and deep brown eyes under thick eyebrows. Except that the operator had added a close cut beard to the ensemble. 14 year old Alex had just thought that Wolf was a dick. 22 year old Alex could acknowledge that he was also a fairly good looking bloke. Not Alex's usual type which had been hopelessly warped when it came to men by the influence of a certain blond Russian assassin, but attractive nonetheless. 

“I just wanted to explain. I'm not usually anything like that kind of a dick, and it's rubbed me up the wrong way for _years_ , the way we treated you.”

Clearly the operator needed to get this off his chest, so Alex shut up and let him talk, waving a hand to indicate that the other man could continue.

“It was no excuse, but we were all in the final stages of Selection after 5 and a half months of hell, and then they suddenly dropped you in with us and made it very clear that if you washed out, we'd wash out too.”

Alex internally raised an eyebrow. He hadn't known that, but it explained a lot. But outwardly he remained impassive.

“So there we were, completely worn down already from the pressure, and for most of us we had been working towards the goal of passing Selection for literally _years_. And they just dumped you on us with no warning, and no explanation. We didn't know anything about you. As far as we knew you were some spoiled rich brat that we were being lumped with to teach him a lesson. But for us, it was our _careers_ that were at stake.”

He noticed Alex's increasingly unimpressed look at what Wolf realised might sound like he was making excuses for his past behaviour. “It doesn't excuse what we did. We were shits. We should have treated you better. We made assumptions that you were a brat, and that wasn't fair.”

Alex shifted in his seat. “Yeah, you weren't exactly my favourite people at that point,” he recalled laconically and shrugged. “Although I wasn't exactly at my most social either.” He could read the question on the other man's face, and somehow found he wanted to explain, just a little.

“My Uncle, who was my sole family had just been murdered. And then the Bank took over as my legal Guardian and forced me into the field.” The corner of his mouth twitched into something that bore only a passing resemblance to a smile. “At 14.”

Wolf looked horrified and Alex shrugged again. “It is what it is. I've got over it. Seriously. So don't worry about it.”

Wolf shook his head, mouth tight. “No, I've got to....Let me make it up to you somehow. _Please_.”

Alex's grimace softened into something that held a little more humour. “How?”

Emboldened that Alex hadn't immediately blocked his overture Wolf sprawled out in his chair and smiled slowly. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Alex was amused by his cheek. He hadn't been oblivious to how obviously Wolf had checked him out earlier. 

“So that's your only motive for asking me out for a drink, is it? To apologise?” He commented, dryly amused.

Wolf's smile widened and he shrugged, his dark eyes dancing with amusement and obvious appreciation as he let them wander over Alex. “Well, a man can multi task.”

Alex snorted. “And why should I say yes?”

Wolf's smile sharpened into a grin. “Out of the goodness of your heart,” he ignored Alex's scoff at that and leaned forward, daring, to briefly touch the back of Alex's hand on the table. “And because I think that you're gorgeous. Really, fucking, sexy.”

He was so blatant, and his appreciation so obvious that to Alex's faint embarrassment he actually felt himself flushing. His gut response was to say no, as he had every time someone had asked him out for the last two years. But then he remembered Yassen's cool dismissal, the casual disregard for the possibility of them ever being any thing more than just sex, how they could never been seen in public together, and suddenly he realised that he did want to have that drink, even if only to be with someone that was actually willing to be seen with him.

He regarded the other man silently for a minute and then nodded. “Okay then,” he confirmed slowly. “Just one drink.”

Wolf sat upright in his chair, delighted that his plan had worked. “Great. When are you free?”

And to Alex's faint bemusement ten minutes later they had arranged to meet in a few evenings time at a bar in Soho and had exchanged mobile numbers before Wolf practically bounced out the Commissionary, almost whistling. Alex watched him go, still a little bewildered by the speed that everything had happened. For a moment his thoughts drifted to Yassen and he felt a pang of almost guilt, as though he was cheating on the other man. But then his jaw tightened. Yassen had practically told him to find someone else. It would serve the Russian right if he did. If he owed Alex nothing, then Alex owed him nothing in return. And with that thought Alex shoved the recollections of Yassen's ice blue eyes out of his head and went about his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Reviews are love!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Let me know what you think!_

Alex hadn't known what to expect when he agreed to meet Wolf for a drink. It wasn't something he ever did as his life wasn't exactly conducive for dating or for maintaining a relationship. It was difficult to get involved with someone when at any minute he might have to drop anything and leave for the field without providing an explanation. Understandably, very few individuals would be happy with that as standard practice for any conceivable period of time, so Alex had always shied away from even trying to date properly. So his social life generally consisted of occasional nights out with Tom and his mates, and nights in with a takeaway and booze in his flat where he and Tom schooled each other in whatever multiplayer game that they were enjoying at that particular moment. 

So he was unexpectedly nervous when he turned up at the pub where they had decided to meet, and would admit, if only to himself, that he had spent far longer on choosing his clothes for this “one drink”, than usual. He'd settled on tight black jeans, ankle boots and a Sunspel v-neck white t-shirt, snug against his frame, but not too tight, and an old well broken biker jacket he had had for years slung over the top. From the appreciative look Wolf gave him as he walked up to the front of the pub to meet the operator, it had been a good choice. And he had to admit that Wolf was pretty easy on the eyes as well, in dark indigo jeans and a soft looking navy blue checked shirt, rolled up to his elbows, leaving his sinewy forearms bare. 

“Alex,” he rumbled with an approving smile as he blatantly gave the younger man a once over. “You look good.”

It was so blunt that Alex was startled into a bark of laughter. “You don't exactly hold back do you?”

Wolf gave him a grin that looked like it belonged to his lupine namesake and shrugged, not even slightly abashed. “I don't see the point. To use the cliché, life's too short, especially in our professions. So if I see something I want I go for it.” He paused, a trace of uncertainty in his gaze. “Unless I'm making you uncomfortable. If that's the case I'll back off, and we can just have that one drink and we can head our separate ways. I'm blunt, but I don't ever push where I'm not welcome.” He blinked at Alex, a little anxious. “So do you want me to stop?”

Alex considered, a little taken aback by the other man's lack of subtly, which was so different from his experience with Yassen, who had been all silence, subtext and heated looks for literally years until the dam had burst and the two of them had collided together like an earthquake. So did he want Wolf to stop? He regarded the other man for a minute and realised that actually, he didn't want Wolf to stop. It was refreshing to be wanted solely for the same reasons most people wanted each other, bog standard sexual attraction, nothing twisted or tormented about it. Just plain healthy lust.

So he smirked at the older man. “I didn't say that.” And watched the blossoming of Wolf's answering smile with amusement as the other man almost bounced in place.

“Excellent. Then shall we?” He gestured for Alex to proceed him into the pub, and then made no bones about eyeing the younger man's arse as Alex padded past him. Alex shook his head, amused and bit back on the bubble of laughter that threatened to spill out of his mouth. This might be fun.

And it was. Fun that was. In fact, some part of Alex was amazed how much fun it was. Wolf was unexpectedly charming when he wanted to be, an absolute treasure trove of ridiculously stupid anecdotes about his exploits in the field that were usually entertainingly self-deprecating. He didn't ask Alex awkward questions about his Six experiences that Alex couldn't answer due to security, and kept the conversation to topics they could both discuss, a little about growing up as mutually overly physical, hyperactive kids and how that had been for both of them, places that they both had visited and what they both thought about them (even if the exact circumstances of _why_ they were in that country at that particular time were never gone into), foods they liked, hobbies, sports. Light conversation, but interesting, and Wolf was far funnier than Alex at 14 could ever have imagined the older man could have been.

And he was a terrible flirt as well, plying Alex with drink after the first drink had smoothly segued into the second, buying him ridiculous virgin cocktails with stupid names when the agent had switched over to non-alcoholic beverages three drinks in. Alex _never_ got drunk in public – he'd learned that lesson too well. Touching him, a hand on Alex's knee, a touch to his shoulder, fingers briefly stroking fingers when he fetched the younger man another glass. He was subtle as a brick with his interest and had Alex flushed with colour and amusement within 15 minutes. But surprisingly Alex found he didn't mind. In fact it was....nice, to be out with someone so obvious, where Alex didn't have to always second guess his every word and expression, and still end up feeling like he was constantly losing a game of one-upmanship with an enigmatic assassin. 

Wolf saw what he wanted, and went after it. And what he blatantly, obviously wanted was Alex. And for Alex, being so obviously wanted, having the upper hand for once in the constant battle of who wanted who more, was actually really refreshing. One drink segued into another and then a three hour session, but eventually at last orders Alex had to call it a night as he had a comparatively early start the next day. But he'd had a surprisingly good time, and so when Wolf escorted him outside with a possessive palm placed on Alex's lower back, the younger man found himself inclined to allow it. And when Wolf gruffly expressed how much he had enjoyed their evening, and habitually blunt, asked if he could take Alex out for dinner as soon as they both could arrange it, Alex found himself saying yes. The smile that lit up Wolf's eyes was worth it, and never a man to miss an opportunity, the older man had consulted their mutual schedules and arranged a date before Alex could blink.

“So where are we going to eat?” Alex had been aware of how Wolf had been inching closer and closer, using the excuse of checking Alex's schedule on his personal phone to move into the spy's personal space. 

Wolf rumbled, now so close that his warm breath exhaled against Alex's shaven cheek. “I know some good places. I'll let you know once I've checked their availability. Any type of food I should avoid?” 

Alex tipped his head back to look the other man in the eye and smiled. “Anything except offal.” He shuddered, mobile mouth twisted into a grimace. “I've had some bad experiences with that.” 

Wolf's mouth twitched into an answering grin. “Noted,” he confirmed gravely. “That still gives me plenty to work with.” He moved even closer until his mouth was hovering just a few centimetres from Alex's, their exhaled breath mingling. Alex prolonged the tension for a moment, then slipped out of reach, even as he brushed his lips lightly across Wolf's cheek. “I'm not that kind of boy, you know,” he teased. “Wait for our second date.”

Wolf exhaled sharply, scrubbed his hand through his hair and laughed. “Understood,” he acknowledged, eyes warm. “Looking forward to it, Alex Rider.”

Alex smiled back. “Me too, Wolf.” And to his faint surprise, he realised that he really was.

**Author's Note:**

> _Please review!_


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